The Baron's Honourable Daughter

by Lynn Morris

  Elyse had no desire to tire Valeria, so she kept her visit short. On the whole she was encouraged. But as she walked back across the park toward home, she grew thoughtful. Valeria had not mentioned Daniel Everleigh at all, and Elyse wasn’t really surprised. She did think that in time Valeria would probably confide in her.

  But what worried her was that, as always, Valeria had asked after Lady Hylton; she had asked after Reggie and begged Elyse to tell her his latest conversational gambits and wanderings; and she had questioned Elyse about ball gowns and who had attended Almack’s the previous evening and who had danced with whom.

  Not once had Valeria mentioned Alastair Hylton.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  VALERIA KEPT TO HER BED. The reason was not solely that she had been so ill. She had a natural vigor, and once she began to eat more nourishing food, she started regaining her strength.

  It was the turmoil in her mind and heart and spirit that kept her in seclusion.

  Over and over, endlessly, she went over that night at the Pantheon, and her appalling behavior, and Alastair Hylton’s devastating words. I never thought that you were false and cruel…

  Every fiber of Valeria’s being cried out at the injustice of it; she was not a cruel person. Her mother had said, and it had comforted Valeria, that she had no malice in her heart, and that was true. What she had done had not been done with any intention of hurting anyone.

  But then, with an insight that made her head pound fiercely, she heard herself, sometimes her voice, sometimes echoes of her own thoughts.

  I don’t care, I’ll never forgive Maledon, or Lady Jex-Blake!

  “My first instinct was to strike her with my riding crop. At least I managed to restrain myself from doing that. I did cut her, though.”

  “Oh, blessed Lord Jesus,” she murmured. “Mamma was wrong, I do have malice in my heart. And how can I be forgiven if I won’t forgive? ‘Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.’ Now I want to forgive them, I need to forgive them. I will make up my mind to do so, but only You can make it true in my heart, by Your grace and mercy, amen.” The prayer was perfunctory, not really heartfelt, but wearily Valeria thought it was the best she could do just now.

  She thought again of Alastair’s devastating indictment of her, which had had nothing to do with her internal bitter resentments. Bleakly she realized that though her actions and behavior had not been motivated by the conscious ill will she had harbored toward her stepfather and Lady Jex-Blake, in the end that made no difference. She had been shallow and supremely selfish, and the results could have caused great harm to her mother. Whether from thoughtless cruelty or deliberate malice, the results were the same.

  Realizing and facing the truth about herself, confessing to the Lord, asking forgiveness, playing over and over in her mind Alastair’s words, weeping, struggling…Valeria could find no peace at all, and felt no comfort. After a second sleepless night, she realized that this internal combat was exhausting her, not only mentally, but physically. Finally at dawn she fell into a restless sleep, and when she awoke she still felt tired and listless, and had little appetite.

  But Joan, whom Valeria had found to be just as expert a nurse as Craigie, and even just as comforting in her own way, was having none of it. “Oh, no, ma’am,” she said staunchly. “I’ve spooned gallons of that awful barley water and broth down you the last days, and we’re not going back to that. Here is your tea, steaming and sweet and creamy, just as you like; and you will eat at least two slices of this buttered toast, for it’s that nice and crisp, and here is a lightly boiled egg.” Obediently Valeria ate, and she did feel better. Well enough, in fact, that after she ate, for the first time since she’d fallen ill, she asked Joan to dress her hair, and decided to put on a morning gown.

  Still, she didn’t want to go downstairs just yet; she wanted to sit at her little table by the window, look down on the busy street, and try again to sort out her thoughts. She had barely gotten seated with a second cup of tea when she saw Elyse and Lady Hylton arrive to make their daily call. “Joan, go ask Lady Lydgate to come right up, I’m so looking forward to visiting with her today.”

  Soon Elyse came in, her eyes bright, her pretty face wreathed in smiles. “Davies gave me a full report on the way up. I’m so glad you’re better.”

  “So am I. I’ve realized how very much I despise barley water, and I’ve recalled how much I love buttered toast. Sit down, please. Tea?”

  “Yes, don’t bother, I’ll pour.” Elyse went through the homely little ritual. “Buttered toast, is it, that’s put that very little bit of color back in your cheeks? At least now you don’t look positively like a waxy corpse.”

  “Thank you so much, Elyse, I know I can always count on you to tell the exact truth, no matter how painful,” Valeria said dryly. Then she sobered and said, “Actually, that is precisely the reason I wanted to talk to you. Because you’re honest, and—and because I know that you’re a true friend.”

  “I hope we are more than that, dearest. I’ve come to love you as a sister.”

  Valeria swallowed hard. Expressing true, deep affection was difficult for her. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me, Elyse, thank you. It makes this a bit easier for me, for I must, I simply must, ask someone. You see, I’ve done something—I’m afraid I’ve been terribly indiscreet—oh, bother! I have behaved very badly, and in public, too. Can you tell me, honestly, that there’s been no word, no scandal?”

  Carefully Elyse said, “I haven’t heard the slightest hint of gossip from any of our acquaintances. When did you commit this dastardly deed?”

  “It’s not funny, Elyse. Um—how long have I been ill? For—for five or six days?”

  Sympathetically Elyse answered, “Darling, you took to your bed nine days ago.”

  “Then ten days ago I made a horrible mistake. No, that’s not true; it was no mistake, I’m not stupid, I did it with all my faculties intact and fully functional, and I’ve no one to blame but myself.”

  “Really? So you just suddenly made up your mind to go out and be wicked, all by yourself?”

  Valeria looked straight at her. “No, I was with Daniel Everleigh, as I’m sure you’ve already surmised.”

  Calmly Elyse sipped her tea. “Of course I would know that, Valeria. You two have been practically inseparable for a couple of months now. I’ve seen that his influence over you has been growing. And whatever happened, I’m sure that he must be mostly responsible—”

  “No, no! I cannot allow that, Elyse. I may be young, but I am a grown woman, and I make my own decisions. Nothing happened that I didn’t fully participate in, even encourage. And since you tell me that no one has heard of it, then in reality I owe Mr. Everleigh a debt of gratitude for his discretion.”

  “What? His discretion! No, no, Valeria, this is wrong, all wrong!”

  Valeria looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  Elyse almost spluttered with an apparent frustration that Valeria found mystifying. “You are being much too hard on yourself, and much too lenient with Mr. Everleigh.”

  “Elyse, I am no fool; I can see now that Mr. Everleigh is a not an honorable man, and has treated me with disrespect. Perhaps he did take advantage of me, but that still does not absolve me of guilt. Anyway, I wish to have nothing more to do with him, and I shan’t miss him at all,” she said.

  Elyse sniffed. “Well done. And I still say stop reproaching yourself so harshly. I don’t know what you did, and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t wish to. But I know you, Valeria, and I know that you haven’t done anything that is grossly immoral or indecent.”

  “Perhaps not, but I broke the rules, and the results could have been just as severe on my poor mother. Like you, she didn’t demand explanations. I tried to confess to her, but she very gently told me that she had already forgiven me, regardless of what I had done.”

  Earnestly, with peculiar emphasis, Elyse said, “Darling Valeria, all of your friend
s, your real friends that know you and love you, feel exactly the same way. We love you, and we forgive you.”

  “Thank you again, darling Elyse. But oh, I am so weary of thinking of it, and talking of it. Cheer me up, dearest, as you always do. Tell me all about what you wore to the fête, and don’t forget your jewelry and your hair.”

  Elyse stayed for over an hour this time. While she was there, Valeria’s spirits were lifted, but after she left they plummeted to the depths again. She felt glum and listless, and Joan clucked reprovingly over her and put her back to bed.

  Again Elyse didn’t say a word about Alastair…she hasn’t so much as mentioned his name. Oh, how I wish she would say something, anything at all, that would give me some notion of his attitude toward me now!

  As she reviewed the conversation she realized that Elyse was holding something back from her. Elyse was a woman who spoke her mind, and there was no guile in her. Yet Valeria thought that in Elyse’s demeanor there had been some stiffness, some discomfort that was uncharacteristic of her.

  The cause of this dawned on Valeria, and it made her feel utterly dejected.

  Of course she can’t say anything about Alastair. He must not have told her about the Pantheon, but I’m sure he completely despises me, is even disgusted with me…I know he would never gossip, but surely Lady Hylton and Elyse are aware of his attitude. I suppose if she did talk about him it would only let me know of his contempt…

  Valeria was not the sort of woman who cried easily. But now she wept, and her headache began all over again.

  * * *

  Another restless night, and Valeria slept very late. When she awoke at eleven o’clock, her eyes were red and irritated from weeping, and the lingering trace of a headache still remained. Overall, however, she was feeling much better and stronger, and determined to go downstairs. With her newfound sensitivity, she realized that by remaining in her room, weeping and brooding, she must be worrying her mother.

  She was dressed just in time for luncheon, and was pleased to see that St. John and Mr. Chalmers were joining Regina. Regina kissed her happily, and even St. John came running to her and held up his arms for her to hug him. Valeria managed to plant a big kiss on his cheek, which made him say, “Aw, Veri, I’m not that glad to see you.”

  “So sorry, but I’ve missed you so much I think I’m going to kiss you two or three times a day now. You’ll just have to bear up. Mr. Chalmers, I haven’t seen you for an age. I’m glad to see you looking well, I can’t imagine the hard life you must lead trying to corral my brother and Niall here in Town. Joan—I mean, Davies told me that they absolutely took off at a dead run in the park and left you standing high and dry.”

  They settled down at the dining table, which was heavily laden. Regina didn’t require the footmen to serve á la russe at their informal luncheons, though Ned and Royce stood by to attend to the diners’ beverages. The table held platters of cold meats, a tray piled high with sandwiches, pigeon pie and beefsteak pie, an assortment of cheeses, and a pyramid of luscious fruits, including apricots, figs, nectarines, pears, plums, raspberries, and strawberries. Valeria’s mouth watered.

  Mr. Chalmers replied, “So they did, and I threatened to yoke them around the neck with a three-inch rope if they did it again.”

  St. John argued, “But, sir, it was Prinny tooling by in his gold carriage. Niall and I just lost our heads, you might say.”

  Regina said sternly, “St. John, if I ever hear you refer to the prince regent as ‘Prinny’ again I shall add a gag to Mr. Chalmers’s yoke. And that is complete nonsense about you and Niall losing your heads, you know perfectly well that you mustn’t go dashing about the park willy-nilly like a couple of mooncalves.”

  Valeria giggled. “Heavens, Mamma, I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  Regina sighed. “Yes, I’m afraid you’ve been a bad influence on me, darling, I find I’ve gotten rather more forceful and plainspoken than I used to be. Or perhaps it’s St. John’s influence, as I find it difficult to express my indignation at his outrageous behavior.”

  Unabashed, St. John repeated, “Willy-nilly mooncalves! I must tell that to Niall. May I have some pigeon pie, and Mamma, please, please look through all the sandwiches to find me a ham, or two.”

  “I have no intention of fingering every sandwich to find you a ham, you must take whatever is on top. Oh, it is ham, very well, here are two. But St. John, if you don’t stop fidgeting, I’m going to send you to your room without luncheon. I probably should do, anyway, for you were squirming and twitching all through morning prayers.”

  “But Mamma, something happened in the laundry, something about the rinse, or so I heard Mrs. Durbin say when she was dressing down the laundress, and my smalls are itchy, and so are Niall’s.”

  Valeria giggled, and though Regina managed to look disapproving, she did have trouble hiding a smile. Mr. Chalmers had much more experience in controlling his amusement at the boys’ antics, so he said, “My lord, a gentleman should never discuss his smallclothes with ladies, not even his mother or sister. You must tell me of such discomforts, and I will address it with Mrs. Durbin.”

  In a small voice St. John said, “But you weren’t asking me why I am fidgeting, Mamma was.”

  “And you should have simply apologized, and said that you would do better.”

  He sighed deeply. “Yes, sir. Next time that turnip-headed feeble-brained fumble-fingered laundress turns out my smalls feeling like they’re bloomin’ salt-crusted canvas, I won’t mention it to anyone but you.”

  Valeria laughed out loud, and even Regina giggled. Mr. Chalmers began, “My lord, you must never…” But his voice was strained, and finally he collapsed into mirth.

  Valeria said, “Oh, St. John, how happy I am to see that you and I are so similar. Our mother is horrified, I know, and I do feel so sorry for poor Mr. Chalmers, but there it is.”

  “There it is,” he said, grinning and taking an enormous bite of ham sandwich.

  “Mamma, you must not reproach him too harshly, we know very well that St. John would never say such outrageous things except to us, he really is a good boy. At least he did go to morning prayers. I’m so ashamed, I can’t recall the last time I went to church, even.”

  “You have been extremely busy, darling,” Regina said. “With such late nights it is difficult to get up in time for morning prayers or church.”

  Thoughtfully Valeria said, “True, but now that I think of it, I have missed them. Mamma, would you like to go to Evensong with me this evening?”

  “I’d be delighted, it’s been an age since I’ve attended Evensong. I believe it’s at five o’clock, so that will give you time to rest. Although you’re obviously better, dearest, your eyes do look tired, and you are still a little pale.”

  Valeria said slyly, “At least I don’t look like a waxy corpse.”

  “Coo-ee,” St. John said in admiration. “A dead bloodless waxy corpse.”

  “Now look what you’ve done, Valeria,” Regina said.

  “I didn’t say it, Elyse did,” Valeria protested.

  To Mr. Chalmers Regina said, “We shall never get them raised.”

  * * *

  St. George’s, Hanover Square, was a majestic, lofty, luxuriously appointed church. Its magnificence, however, was not overwhelming; it still evoked a reverential, prayerful air. As soon as Valeria entered and took her seat, she felt some of the tension and worry in her mind subside. She wasn’t at all surprised that the congregation was sparse in fashionable London. She herself was usually riding in Hyde Park at this time, along with just about everyone else who lived in the West End. She was glad to see, however, that the choir stall was full. The Evensong service was called so because the service was primarily sung, and St. George’s was renowned for the excellence of its music.

  Although Valeria had prayed much in the last days, somehow she had never felt fully reconciled to God, and still didn’t. The guilt and shame, she knew, must somehow be overcome, but she fel
t helpless, as if she had no rule at all over her own spirit.

  The service began, the so-familiar words were spoken, and Valeria tried very hard to hear them anew. At first they made little impression on her. Although she knew the order by heart, and for years now had had no need to follow along in her prayer book, now she started reading as the minister spoke. Slowly the Scriptures being read, and the minister’s injunctions to the congregation, began to take on meaning. As with new eyes she read the instruction, “A general Confession to be said of the whole Congregation after the Minister, all kneeling.”

  They knelt, and instead of repeating words by rote, Valeria closed her eyes and truly prayed, perhaps for the first time in months.

  Almighty and most merciful Father; We have erred, and strayed from thy ways like lost sheep. We have followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts. We have offended against thy holy laws. We have left undone those things which we ought to have done; And we have done those things which we ought not to have done; And there is no health in us. But thou, O Lord, have mercy upon us miserable sinners. Spare thou them, O God, who confess their faults. Restore thou them that are penitent; According to thy promises declared unto mankind in Christ Jesus our Lord. And grant, O most merciful Father, for his sake; That we may hereafter live a godly, righteous, and sober life, To the glory of thy holy name. Amen.

  Valeria meant every word of it. And she knew that she had received absolution and remission of her sins even before the minister pronounced it.

  After that Valeria’s mind was wholly engaged by, and absorbed in, the service. In particular she felt her spirit lift when the choir, accompanied by the magnificent organ that Handel himself had loved, sang “Magnificat,” “Nunc dimittis,” and “Deus misereatur.” Everything was fresh, everything was new, and everything had a special meaning to her; God was her own Almighty and most merciful Father, Christ Jesus was her Lord, and the Holy Ghost was her Comforter.